


Veins of the Heart

by InfinityWhale



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Medievalstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfinityWhale/pseuds/InfinityWhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"can someone write me a katnep fic where karkat is a knight at a castle that nepeta is trying to cat burglar.</p>
<p>maybe they meet in a pub the night before or something</p>
<p>and then like karkat catches her and is like “oh shit" but then like she kicks his ass and escapes</p>
<p>& that’s all I’ve thought about so far"</p>
<p>Part of an art trade with Stewna (stewna.tumblr.com)</p>
<p>A 3,000 (and thirty) word fic adapted from the above prompt.</p>
<p>A LOT of badass Nepeta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Veins of the Heart

i.   
The Warned Brother was the most popular tavern in the town, but it was hard to say why for certain. The drinks tasted like piss, the atmosphere could be summed by the word “damp”, and the service was… les then friendly on an optimal day. If you had to make an accurate guess, it was probably due to the proximity to the mayor’s mansion, so that the garrisons spent their off-hours carousing and spending money. Nepeta personally went there for business purposes and usually avoided it otherwise, but she figured that if they enjoyed it, they could eat there, too. In fact, if anything it probably aided her: nobody suspected that crucial information was being handed down right in the middle of the garrison’s favorite location, meaning that conversations held were almost never looked at as suspect. But there was a truth to the Tavern’s name, and Nepeta knew it better than anyone.

Nepeta was perfectly happy in this moment. She was garbed in her favorite clothes, not particularly fancy, no, but a simple brown work gown that had been worn in all the right places for going about town, or creating her art, or even just for a quick catnap. Around her neck was the blue cat necklace that she prized above almost everything else, with a meaning hidden to everyone else, but with a great meaning to her.

Casually she strolled into the tavern, comfortable in her elements, yet ready to pounce, just like the great lionesses of a noble house. And she did indeed pounce, right back out the door the way that she came, perhaps overreacting to something she saw and flinging herself immediately back out the tavern at the sight. She gasped a couple of times, then calmed down and breathed deep, slowly, inside and out, staring and the sky and trying to just relax. The sky certainly was pretty today…

Suddenly something grabbed her from behind, the scruff of the neck, and yanked her up. She was a pretty small, person to sure: short and lithe, but even so somebody lifting her up with one hand in the way they were doing had to be pretty strong. And indeed it was: she was twisted around found herself facing Equius, at whom she sheepishly grinned. The tall, ludicrously muscular man seemed somewhat perplexed at what he had come across. He was generally a fairly sweat guy, but the armor he was wearing made it something else entirely, a rage tied across his forehead just to keep it from dousing him completely. It was a wonder the, Nepeta couldn’t help but think, that he didn’t pass out form dehydration altogether.

“Nepeta,” he said his calm, low voice. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, um,” she said, grasping for answers. “It was nothing. I was just going into the tavern, and saw something.” She gave a toothy grin, inwardly begging him not to inquire any further.

“What did you see?” Equius asked. God damn it.

“Nothing important. Can you let me go now?” Nepeta squirmed a little bit, but Equius’ extreme strength was as unyielding as ever. He was renowned for using a battlehammer in   
combat, the only one who could effectively do so due to the sheer weight involved.

“Nepeta,” Equius’ voice was scolding now. “Let me know or I will carry you like this into the tavern right now.” Nepeta sighed, and sagged. 

“It was… karkatvantas,” she mumbled the last part fast and low, but her moirail heard her all the same and gave out a deep sigh.

“Not the lowborn,” Equius said. “Did it have to be the lowborn?”

“Lowborn? But he’s a knight!” Nepeta was genuinely confused. You could trust Equius to be on the up and up about any social changes or hierarchal customs, but she had no idea   
about any of this.

“Yes, he rose to his station through commendable service,” Equius explained. “There was something about a battle where he took charge upon the death of their superior. But trust me, he is still lowborn, and much beneath you to marry.” At that, Nepeta had a bright green flush come over her face.

“M-m-marry?” She giggled nervously. “No, I hadn’t thought about that. I just, uh… think he’s handsome.” Equius paused and considered this.

“He may well be. But mark my words, Nepeta, a troll of your pedigree can do a lot better than Karkat Vantas.” 

ii.

The day had turned to dusk. The last vestiges of purple had seeped from the sky, leaving it the ominous blue-black that commanded the early night before it all faded to black. Based upon the shift schedule Vriska had provided her at the tavern, this was the hour that there would only be one guard in the wing of the castle that she was infiltrating. She was wearing a jet-black coat, her favored one for action for the mobility, utility, and stealth that it proved. Underneath, a basic set of male work clothes, expertly modified by a close friend and skill seamstress, Kanaya Maryam. Inside the coat hung a sturdy, roomy pouched stitched to the coat, with various tools of the trade inside, and her cat necklace, the first thing she had ever stolen and reminder who she was.

As for who that was, it was easy to think you knew Nepeta Leijon. And, in fact, most people knew most of her: skilled artisan, caring friend, and saccharine disposition. However, if they thought that was a there was to her, they were dead wrong. Times selling pictures and writing books had not always been kind, and on these days she had resorted to a more creative method of finding her own income. She had gone rather overboard back then, but it had worked. It earned her a reputation, a support base in the criminal underworld, and a tag: the Huntress.

The wagon rolled up to the gates. The guards gave it quick onceover, but nobody ever checked the bottom. Granted, if they did she could simply knock them out, but the less the castle guards knew about her being here, the better. So she simply bided her time, careful, quiet, cautious, patient. Shortly the cart started rolling again, and they were inside the castle gates. Glancing around, she carefully judged her position from the relative location of the walls, and let go of the cart, rolling off to the side. Her small size and nigh-soundless nature took over for her: the guards that were patrolling were to inattentive to notice the small thief slinking off to the side. The map of manor was etched into her mind: studied for hours before the heist for every spare detail: you never knew what tiniest bit of knowledge could save your life in the heat of the moment.

A small black door revealed the servant’s quarters: easily the best way through the castle. They were built to be direct, they had a single-file nature that made it impossible for a greater number of foes to assail you, and they lead to everywhere. One time she had used these to sneak into the heiress Feferi’s chambers herself and not a peep had been heard by the guards on patrol, especially since she knew at this point where the servants were headed and when. Most of them would be milling about by the kitchen, eating their own dinners and cleaning up what messes were left by the lords and ladies. Other than that, a few would be dressing the rooms for the nobles, making it the perfect sleeping conditions and preparing them for the morning with the correct regalia laid out for the day’s work. Nepeta used to be friends with Aradia Megido, the head maid, but they hadn’t spoken in a while. She had heard that something was happening with her and Sollux Captor, the court’s physician, which she found so adorable it made her want to cry. She shook her head and focused her mind. The mission now, courtly gossip later. You couldn’t allow yourself to get distracted on a hunt.

A noise startled her, and the low speaking of two voices approaching at the next intersection. She rushed up to the corner and pressed herself up against, silent and quick as ever. She saw the two trolls pass by, they appearing to be waiters of some sort. She waited until they were sufficiently far away and continued trawling along, on high alert for any warning signs. Eventually she reached it: the door she was looking for. She checked the hinges real quick: they looked clean, and shouldn’t squeak. With a careful and tentative swing, she pulled it open, and observed the vast hallway: a massive expanse with all the trapping and gorgeous ornamentation everywhere. It was all leading up to a single glass display, more an altar than anything. She cautiously approached it, a loan light shining upon it.

Inside was said to be the most powerful treasure in the kingdom: a perfectly round, large crystal. It’s raw worth would already set it to rival even many enchanted items. However, it wasn’t the appearance that made it so valuable, but what you saw. It was said that the item was crafted by an invincible demons to be perfectly knowledgeable helper, and that if you stared into it with a question in your heart, the answer to anything could be found. Nepeta wasn’t sure if she believed this or not, but there was one thing that she knew: this was ludicrously valuable and that if she made off with this heist, she could probably live the rest of her life without working. Of course, that’s not really why she did it: she could survive off of petty thievery without any risk of death and barely any of capture. This was for the thrill of the hunt, the sheer pleasure of the game, and possible failure was just one of the best parts.

She carefully approached the altar. 20 feet, 15 feet, 10 feet, 5… She was standing right in front of the relic, the glass case carefully secured. She reached into her pouch and pulled out a small vial of blue liquid: a disenchanter for the discharge rune etched into the underworking of the glass. She carefully spread it over the offending area. It was bold of Vriska to use her own blood color for the potion, but she was a criminal mastermind, and not only because of her constant boasting to that effect. More likely than not, this was also a “come and get me” to the authorities, and a calling card for other criminals to see. Nepeta didn’t use one: her work spoke for itself. The rune deactivated, Nepeta carefully lifted the glass cage, open it up inch by inch. Something near the back of the case sparked, and Nepeta’s eyes widened suddenly.

She rolled to the side this time, having learned her lesson about flopping backwards earlier that day. A bolt of pyroclastic energy lanced from the front of the podium and shot straight to the back of the hallway, colliding with the wall and leaving a large, round black spot. Nepeta grumbled. She would have to talk to Vriska about thoroughness of information, especially from her highborn sources. Oh well. Nepeta once again removed the glass case and retrieved the crystal orb. It was heavy, surprisingly heavy for the size of the object, perhaps a side effect of the powerful incantation that had supposedly been placed upon it. She carefully removed it and put it in her pouch.

Suddenly… something. Nepeta turned, the air’s subtle movements alerting her to a presence. She turned to see a troll decked out in full armor with his arm raised, a weapon in his hand and he was bringing it down in a slashing motion. Nepeta’s instinct’s kicked it. She leaped at him, putting herself too close to be in attacking range and slammed into the guard. He was much more heavily clad, but the added inertia of her sudden pounce put Nepeta at a distinct advantage. The armor didn’t clank as much as she would have thought. It must have been a new security measure: she would have to be more wary of such precautions next time.

The troll stumbled backwards, but caught himself before he fell down. One of his hands came up, the other tightly gripping an impeccably crafted scythe. Nepeta gripped her hands and rolled her palms. Out of both gloves came three, bright shining blades. She could see the trepidation on her foe’s face… oh no.

Oh no, was that Karkat? That couldn’t be him, the odds were astronomical but… yep, that was him. He shook off his look of fear and began to bob up and down, an impeccable but brutally rigid style. He came in for a swipe but she deflected it with her claws easily. It wasn’t that fighting an experience knight would be terribly difficult: she was a remarkably talented fighter herself. But she didn’t want to hurt him… Could she just run away? No, if she let him go he’d sound the alarm and then she’d be trapped in the castle until she was caught or managed to wriggle her way out. He came at her again, and this time she scampered between his legs, a somewhat clumsy move, but it caught him off-guard enough for it to work, she turned to face him, and he quickly moved to face her as well. She thought about it… Yes, that was it!

Karkat went after her again. His style was perfect for fighting foes of the same stature as himself, but he was by no means experienced enough to deal with any situation. He went after her, a quick vertical swipe and she jumped. It tore the edge of her ragged coat, but that was of no concern. Still moving forwards and upwards, she leaped gracefully over his shoulder, and he she passed, with one grabbed his head and yanked backwards. The sudden shift in position left Karkat disoriented, and he couldn’t stay up. He fell backwards, and slammed into the ground, aided by the weight of his armor and the strength she threw into the toss. The bump was a nasty one, with a resounding thud. A quick check confirmed he was alive, but passed out. Nepeta breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t tell the warning signs of any patrol, and it looked like he had just decided to get the drop on her instead of going for a patrol. She hoped he wouldn’t be seen as a coward…

And idea crossed her mind. She took one of her claws, sharp and hard as could be, and plunged it into Karkat’s breastplate. The claws had been enchanted, pricey but worth it. She sliced into his breastplate, leaving a deep gash. Three trickles of blood, she couldn’t tell what color, glistened as they fell out of the wound.

iii.

Nepeta, though having stayed up the better part of the night, was as energetic and chipper as ever. She was still in the post-heist high, the feeling when everything was alright and nothing could possibly go wrong. She began to enter the Warned Brother. As she did so, she could a glimpse of a large ring of people, with Karkat sitting in the middle of them, another cup of mug being thrust into his (mostly disgruntled) hand. Nepeta panicked a rolled to the side, only for a strong hand to grasp before she recover fully and to hold her up once more.

“Nepeta,” Equius said. “I understand that this crush of yours has caused you some trepidation, but this degree is just ridiculous.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, no Equius, let me goooooo,” Nepeta said, struggling and writhing. Equius meant well, but there was no way that he could realistically understand what was happening.

“Nonsense,” Equius said. “I had my doubts about the possibility, myself, but the young Vantas actually was harmed in the line of duty defending a precious relic, unsuccessful though he was. There’s no doubt denying that he is, perhaps rather honorable. For a lowborn, that is. I would prefer it if you could find someone more your station, it is true, but it’s no use denying that your heart is set on this fellow.”

“Equius, you really, really, really need to let me go,” Nepeta said. She would just lay low for a week, avoid Karkat, and wait ‘til the whole news just blew over. Soon enough there would be more talk about the search for the treasure, how to find the huntress: she was used to that kind of stuff. But if Karkat saw her face and recognized her… ooooh that would not be good, not at all.

“It is understandable to be shy, especially considering that this man has been the object of your affection for some time now,” Equius continued, oblivious to any other reason other than shyness for this outburst. “But fear not! I, as his superior office and therefore, by rights, idol, I will be the one to make the first introductions.” At this moment, Nepeta would have given anything to be wearing her coat or something she could slip off, and was seriously considering ditching the plain dress she was wearing at the moment, not that it would help her get away from Equius, fit as he was. He set her down and took her arm. “Come now.”

Nepeta let out a small whimper. Oh god, this was it. Equius carried her inside the tavern.

“Karat Vantas,” Equius said in his booming monotone. Nepeta clung to his side, trying desperately to disappear into him. This was it: her whole life flashed beside her eyes. “I would like to introduce to you my moirail and best friend, Nepeta Leijon.” Karkat finished draining his mug and took at a glance at her. An eternity hung as he scrutinized her. God, why did he have to be handsome?

“You’re that artist that the nobles are always going to or some fucking thing like that.” Equius cringed at the language. “Here, let me get you drink.” Nepeta breathed the deepest sigh of relief.


End file.
